Carwash
by SpookshowBabyx
Summary: In her efforts to find incriminating material to help in her struggle to get rid of Emma, Regina finds herself in possession of a rather peculiar set of images that leave her wondering as to her feelings towards the blonde. Things don't get any easier when Emma finds out.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_Part one of two. For those of you reading 'Wet' and 'All Magic' (and maybe even 'Shots') I am still carrying these on, I just wanted a break to do some more light-hearted short request pieces. I haven't had time to re-watch season one so I can't place the time of this extract exactly and it may muddle events slightly between two or three episodes, but it has little to do with this story line, so hopefully you'll forgive me!_

_Also, I know most of you read this for the Swan Queen, but if any of you ARE interested, I have just finished putting up some of my own writing onto my site for uni, and would be stoked if anyone felt like taking a look. The link is up on my profile on here. Either way, Enjoy! And please comment!_

* * *

"What did you find out?"

"Well, to be honest, she's not an easy woman to track down... She ran into some trouble with the law at seventeen, but the records are sealed up pretty tight..."

"... So you found nothing...?"

Regina muses silkily as she glares at the slippery reporter. Her eyes fall upon the slim folder he holds in his hand and she plucks it away from him deftly as he opens his mouth to form some pitiful excuse.

"No, not _nothing_... I was able to contact one Katelyn Matthews; Miss Swan's cellmate when incarcerated. I spoke to her over the phone and explained I was a local reporter in Emma's current hometown and wanted to do a report on the young woman... I left out my reasoning for fear of questions- simply stating I was trying to build up a picture of her past- but it would appear Miss Matthews is rather more forthcoming than our dear Emma ... Perhaps the opportunity to be quoted in print? Who knows. She emailed me across a collection of documents- She and Emma moved in together for a couple of months once Miss Swan finished serving her time- which I've printed off as you can see... I have yet to look through them myself, it was merely a PDF file I ran to print, but anything of use to you, will be in there..."

Raising an eyebrow, the brunette flicks distractedly through the thin black folder before glancing back up irritably.

"Yes. Well. That will be all, Sydney."

"Very well... I... I hope you find what you're looking for..."

"As do I... But I doubt it."

* * *

"_...I hope you find what you're looking for..."_

"And what exactly _is_ it you're looking for?"

The Mayor mutters to herself under her breath. Truth be told, she has no idea, but she refuses to believe that one so caustic as the blonde could live a life free from any number of shameful events and altercations. Indeed, it is most vexing to her that the circumstances of Emma's incarceration are under proverbial lock and key, as surely the reasoning behind her predicament would provide perfect smoke to add to the fire she plans to ignite.

As it is, she must search for another stain on the younger woman's already tarnished reputation.

Whatever it is. It doesn't matter. She just wants the bitch gone.

Settling down behind her desk, she flips open the slim folder Sydney provided, and runs a slender finger pensively over her full lips as her glittering eyes scan the first page.

"Dear Mr Glass.

I hope this finds you well. As requested, I put together some stuff about Emma. I mentioned this on the phone to you, but she and I were never actually all that close, so there isn't really much to tell... I must say I am surprised you are looking to write about her? Emma always seemed the private sort if you know what I mean.

I guess people change.

I managed to find some letters and photos from our time living in Tallahassee, though, which I have attached as a PDF file to the email. Sorry it's not much- Emma always preferred the other side of the lens.

Please do let me know if any of this gets published. It'd be cool to receive a copy. (My own little piece of the fame! Ha ha!)

Regards,

Katelyn.'

"...Weren't actually all that close... Now why doesn't _that_ surprise me?"

The brunette muses aloud as she flips over the neat black font of the email to reveal several scanned letters and a series of photographs. She finds she has to squint in order to decipher the messy scrawl of the blonde's handwriting, despite Katelyn having blown the scribbles up to fill the page. She is able to make out enough to discern that the younger woman had drawn up a do-it-yourself document to act as a written agreement to her side of staying with her ex-cellmate; signing her name spikily at the bottom to assure her new housemate- and, given the nature of the paperwork, the owner of the residence- the right to kick her out should she feel the need.

Regina finds herself unsurprised that the blonde would put her trust in such a risky document rather than take any sort of responsibility of her own.

Deeming the rest of the scrawled nonsense to be useless, she frowns, aware that it is much less likely she will find the sort of incrimination she needs within the images. She almost opens her mouth to mutter as to the idiocy of supplying photographs at all, but as her eyes fall on the first of the printer-ravaged pictures she finds herself intrigued.

Katelyn has supplied her with three photographs all together, including a little typed description beneath each of them pertaining to when and where the image took place. The first is a slightly shaky picture taken in a rather stark little room, labelled 'Moving day, Tallahassee, '03'. Emma stands with one hand on her hip and a paintbrush held loosely in the other as she gives the camera a disproving glance. Her hair is long, but rather ratty, and her face is bare but tanned, her cheeks ever so slightly haggard despite her youth in the image. The brunette ponders on how many days have passed between the young woman leaving the correctional facility and this image.

She imagines not very many.

The second causes the Mayor to frown, as the blonde winks back up at her theatrically, her slim fingers holding up several ketchup-tipped french fries as a paper crown rests hatefully upon her curls which appear in much better condition having been snipped back so that they feather down to graze her shoulders. Regina is unsure exactly what 'BK' stands for, but she dislikes the thought of the younger woman wearing any sort of crown regardless of the initials emblazoned across it. Cardboard or not. The small blurb to the image simply reads 'August 23rd (My birthday), Emma BK, '03'.

Turning to the last image, the brunette stills as her eyes widen with curiosity. This final picture has been printed off on its own separate page, and she is unsure if this is the reason for its larger size or whether the computer is at fault. Either way, she finds herself accosted with an A4 image of the blonde as she stands in a very peculiar manner beside a soapsud encrusted car. She has never traveled away from the small, sleepy town over which she resides, but she has seen enough of the world through television and in books to know that it is rather unusual for one to perform an activity such as washing a car in the attire the younger woman wears in the last image.

The blonde's tight little physique- unfairly tight as this is surely only a good several months after the birth of her son- glistens wetly, bright white bubbles flecking her bare thighs, as she smiles back from the page wearing nothing but a yellow bikini top and washed out denim shorts that barely provide the coverage of underwear. Her hair is once more long and golden, offset prettily by a deep Florida tan, and her lips are pulled back in a flash of white teeth which seems alarmingly predatory.

And just a little sexual.

Frowning, Regina sits back in her chair as her eyes continue to linger on the curious image of the woman she has come to despise in just a few short weeks.

Despise... Yet look forward to her predictable insolence and sarcasm with a kind of sadistic anticipation.

The expression Emma pulls in the image lying on the desk reminds the brunette of the fiery look the younger woman had given her after taking a chainsaw to her apple tree, and the fact that such a recollection stirs within her an inexplicable dark excitement causes the Mayor's brow to furrow as she subconsciously wets her lips, her dark eyes remaining trained on the scantily clad young blonde.

'Helping out at the Sorority car-wash for fun! Panama City, '04'.

Denim shorts resting ridiculously low on sharp hips, showing off the lean muscle tapering deliciously southwards. A light spattering of dark freckles dappling shoulders, chest and stomach. Painted red lips and sharp white teeth. Tousled blonde tresses bleached sensationally white by the sun. Green eyes glittering and lashes dark.

"How inappropriate."

Regina starts slightly at the sounds of her own voice, a little disconcerted to say the least by the complex surge of emotions the image before her has conjured. She is surprised by the heat that flushes her cheeks, its sweet cousin playing dangerously somewhere much further south. She is not so stubborn as to refuse the notion of the way the younger woman's slim frame is clad so minimally to be the reason for such a reaction- after all, she has always found lust in beauty- but she is simply disconcerted to harbor such physical fancies for the hateful young blonde.

_Hateful, but unnervingly desirable._

She sighs, it isn't the first time she's thought such things in regards to Storybrooke's newcomer. Upon meeting her the night she had brought Henry back from Boston, she had found Emma to be irritatingly attractive; the sort of attractive that had made her wish for the first time in years for her power back, itching to force and manipulate those slim white fingers and pretty pink lips to do her bidding. Finding her then, glaring haughtily from behind metal bars much like a caged lioness, hadn't helped much either.

Neither had the fact the ridiculous woman seemed to have had no qualms about answering the door in her mother-loving underwear.

Scant scarlet offsetting milky thighs.

Rolling her eyes, the brunette pushes the image away from her irritably, pursing her lips primly as she becomes aware of the feeling of damp silk burning between her legs.

She rises briskly, her abdomen warm with a telling ache and she scolds her body for its mutinous reactions. Moving gracefully through the room on sharp black stilettos, she slips through the door and into the grand en-suite, eyes flickering as the lock clicks metalically shut behind her. Finding herself in the ornate, gold-framed mirror that hangs above the sink, she slips out of her sinfully tight pencil skirt easily, allowing the rich fabric to fall to the white tiles of the floor.

"This is ridiculous."

She hisses, her dark eyes flickering to her reflected lips as she speaks, her cheeks rouged prettily and her chest flushed beneath her shirt. She imagines her reaction is as much pent up frustration with the blonde as it is attraction, but the kittenish expression gracing Emma's fine features in that curious image- _carwash.._.- have elicited a pure and undeniable lust she is willing to go with. She is just able to make out the slightly darker silk that stains her ivory lingerie from her wetness, and plucks the incriminating wisp of fabric swiftly away, allowing it to flutter to the floor between her legs. Her slim fingers find her heat and she closes her eyes as they slip sweetly between silken folds.

* * *

"Regina?"

Emma doesn't bother waiting for an answer as she lets herself into the brunette's office, deeming the sharp rap of her knuckles against heavy wood to be more than sufficient. She huffs irritably when she finds the room to be empty, aching to give the darker woman a piece of her mind after finding her car clamped yet again.

_Honestly, for someone claiming she wants me the hell out, she's making it pretty damn hard..._

She recognizes her current predicament as yet another curious aspect to the little games the Mayor seems hell-bent on playing, and as much as she may bitch and moan, there is something to the cunning spite of it all that makes her heart beat just that little bit faster with inexplicable excitement.

Growling at the obvious fact she stands alone in the grandiose office, she turns to leave before her eyes flicker to the sheets of paper that litter the desk. She frowns, padding over slowly as incredulous recognition dawns on her.

She studies the large photograph which lies forlorn on the Mayor's desk for what seems like a decidedly long time, trying to work out what in the hell the brunette would want with such an image and how she even came by it in the first place. Flicking through the rest of the documents, she rolls her eyes, fury settling in on her swiftly as she understands what the darker woman is up to.

"You fucking _bitch_..."

She hisses angrily, her cheeks pinkening as she bites her lip and tries to decide what to do.

A low moan from behind the heavy door lining the far wall has her glancing up, startled, and she frowns as she stalks a little closer. Listening in for just a little longer, her eyes widen as comprehension dawns on her. Turning tail, she all but sprints from the room, trying both to figure out and repress what she's just encountered.

By the time she reaches her car waiting patiently outside, a slow smile has found her lips as her eyes glitter dangerously.

"Game on."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_Part two of three- sorry I lied. Sorry for the short update, I am super busy at the moment and I don't think I'll get a chance to write much more this week so thought I'd upload what I have :) Hope that's better than nothing!_

* * *

"Graham, I need you to... What... You?"

Regina comes to a halt at the threshold to the Station's office, her dark eyes falling upon the blonde in confusion as the latter sits cross-legged in one of the time-weary chairs working her way through an almond pastry. She purses her lips as the younger woman raises an eyebrow, lifting her sugar-dusted fingers to her mouth and licking them slowly clean. Emma seems to take an absurdly long time with her meticulous removal of icing- sucking her index finger delicately between her lips as her eyes widen innocently- before finally lowering her hand and cocking her head to the side.

"Can I help you, Regina?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Well... As I haven't seen the _Mayor _around for the last few days, I came to ask the Sheriff to remove the clamp on my car."

"You were parked illegally..."

"No I wasn't... It doesn't matter though... Graham was very understanding."

"... Was he now...? And where _is_ the good Sheriff, dear?"

The blonde shrugs, green eyes roaming the deliciously tight pencil skirt the Mayor wears appreciatively.

"I think he's getting some bits and pieces out of his car... I'm not sure..."

"Well... Why are you sticking around if he showed pity on you for your idiotic parking?"

"... Afternoon snack?"

The brunette's breath catches in her throat as the younger woman's tongue flickers briefly into view and dusky lashes cast shadow over cheeks which dimple mischievously. Rolling her eyes and running her fingers briskly through her hair, she turns towards the door as heavy footsteps approach from the hallway.

"Madame Mayor, what can I-"

"-Sheriff. Since when have you been running an open office where pretty much anybody can just sit around and... Distract you from your work?"

Graham looks uneasily from the irate brunette over to Emma who shrugs indifferently from her seat opposite his desk.

"We were just talking, Regina..."

"Don't you have better things to do?"

"Look... She just-"

"-Oh save it! I know what she 'just', she-"

Regina's angry growl tapers off as the blonde pushes herself up from her seat and stalks past her towards the door.

"I don't have to listen to this."

"Emma, wait, come on..."

Graham sighs, watching as the younger woman disappears from view before turning back to the Mayor with a frown.

"What the hell _is_ it with you two? She wasn't doing anything _wrong_ and you go after her like a dog after a bone."

"The fact that that woman is still hanging about town when she has no business being here, stirring up things between my son and I is what she's done wrong, Sheriff... Just _one _of the things she's done wrong!"

Regina huffs, Graham's incredulous tone dampening the small victory she feels in making the blonde storm out. Closing her eyes momentarily and calming herself down, she takes the seat recently vacated by the younger woman and regards the Sheriff with a coy smile. Sighing, Graham leans back in his chair and studies her with open curiosity.

"What did you want, anyway?"

"... I was wondering what your plans were later?"

The brunette raises an eyebrow in question, her full lips painted scarlet and wanting. She doubts that he is surprised to see her; she has come to him nightly for the last three days... Since finding herself in possession of that dratted picture.

She has found herself uncomfortably aroused, avoiding any contact with the blonde while she strives to corral her emotions back into place. She hates that Emma elicits such a strong lust from her, and- what with the way the younger woman had gone about cleaning herself off from her pastry- she can't help but feel the blonde is somehow entirely- _consciously_- at fault.

_Such an idea is, of course, preposterous..._

"I imagine I'll be checking in on you to make sure all is well?"

The Sheriff grins, causing the brunette to smirk.

"Just remember to use the side door."

With that, she rises from her seat, fluffing her silky locks fussily before turning for the door with a smile. Pulling her coat closer to her slim frame, she struts down the long hallway and out into the winter sun to the steady beat of her stilettos.

Her good mood falters as she approaches her car, eyes narrowing and mouth falling comically open in a bizarre concoction of disbelief and rage.

"_What_..."

Her dark eyes remain locked on her Mercedes for a long time; as though glaring at her car in such a way will erase the thick mud and grime that coats the bonnet. Finally, a flash of yellow to her side catches her attention and she glances over to spot a large, dirt-fouled bucket lying tipped and forlorn on the grass. She recognizes it as the pail that usually sits beneath the Station's drainpipe to collect the leaf mulch and debris that litter the old, faulty spout and keep the cement free from a filthy pile of wet dirt.

"... Oh, my dear, that was most _certainly_ not a good move..."

Pulling open her car door with a wrinkle of her nose, she guns the engine angrily, her heart racing with rage as she reverses out of the space and heads off in the direction of the blonde's crummy apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_Writing these two really is the best remedy for too much soul-destroying work! Hope you enjoy, and please comment!_

* * *

When she pulls into the small parking alley around the back of the blonde's apartment building, Regina is surprised to spot Emma sitting out on the steps that lead up to fire escape. The younger woman pays her arrival no mind, simply continuing to contemplate the apple she holds in her hand with that hateful lazy boredom the brunette has come to associate with their new arrival. Switching off the car's engine, the Mayor scolds herself as she remains mesmerized where she sits as the blonde bites into the apple, revealing white flesh that contrasts shockingly with the ruby shine to its skin. Blinking rapidly as Emma deftly licks a trickle of escaped juice from her wrist, Regina growls, opening the door to her car and marching out onto the sidewalk.

"Miss Swan!"

"... Madame Mayor?"

Green eyes flicker up at her disinterestedly, and the brunette feels at a momentary loss of what to do as she realizes her arrival comes as no surprise to the younger woman. Stalking closer until she stands at the foot of the steps with her hands rested on her hips she glares up at the blonde irritably, her dark eyes flashing with malice.

"What in the hell do you think you're playing at!?"

"...What do you mean?"

"You know damn well what I mean! My car! Look at it!"

"Oh that... Bummer."

"Miss Swan, you sort out this mess, and you sort it out _now!_"

The Mayor continues to scowl darkly as the younger woman raises an eyebrow and offers her a curious glance, a small smile touching her lips.

"As you wish..."

And with that she hops down from her perch on the top step, tossing the remains of her apple dismissively into the bushes and making her way swiftly down the stairs until she stands face to face with the brunette. Regina maintains a strict poker face, inwardly astounded at just how easy it has been to get the blonde to stand down and adhere to her wishes.

"What the hell were you thinking in the_ first_ place?!"

She grumbles irritably, uncharacteristically unnerved at the way the younger woman maintains cool eye contact as she continues to smirk smugly.

"Guess I just didn't much like what was being implied back at the Station."

"So you upended a bucket of _filth_ onto my car?! Honestly, dear, that speaks more of childishness and guilt than it does payback."

"I have no reason to feel guilty."

"Oh please, you and Graham-"

"- Me and Graham nothing. I have no interest in the Sheriff, at least, not the kind you're implying."

"You expect me to believe you?"

"I don't _expect_ you to do anything. I'm just telling you... It's nothing."

"You're telling me you harbor no attraction to anyone in this town... That you're completely innocent of-"

"-No. That's not what I said."

"What do you mean?"

"I said I have no interest in Graham."

"But you-"

"- Do you want me to sort your car out or not? It's getting cold and I want a drink."

"...Well...Then quit bickering and get to it, Miss Swan."

The blonde opens her mouth to protest, but decides it isn't worth it, choosing instead to shrug and tell the Mayor to sit tight while she finds herself a sponge and some soapy water. Regina sniffs and glares after her, searching about for a seat as she refuses to perch on the dirty steps like the younger woman.

Like a tramp.

Pursing her lips, she moves back to her car and ducks into its warmth and cover. She is already less than thrilled at the thought of anyone seeing her waiting outside the schoolteacher's apartment building.

"Of course it would be_ her_ that took in the woman... Of_ course_ it would."

She is pulled from her thoughts as she spots Emma trotting back into view with a large red bucket and a yellow sponge, her long hair whipping about in the wind curiously. The reason why she should find such a thing curious dawns on the brunette slowly and she frowns. Rather than donning an extra layer against the March chill, the blonde has shed her jacket back in the apartment, the t-shirt she now wears flimsy and white, just grazing the waistband of her jeans and capped high up her slender arms in a way that makes the Mayor shiver just looking at her.

_Didn't want to get dirt on that hideous jacket?... It would have been no crime to ruin that thing, dear, I promise you._

She watches as the pale young woman carries the bucket and sponge down to her car, her careless movements causing some of the water that sloshes in the red pail to spatter up and wet her top, the fabric sticking soggily to the firm flesh at her stomach causing the brunette to look away swiftly.

Placing the bucket down beside the Mercedes, Emma peeks up to find Regina pointedly ignoring her. Rolling her eyes, she swiftly dumps the majority of the warm soapy water over the bonnet in one swift flick of her wrists, causing the brunette to glance up in surprise. Paying her no obvious attention, Emma bends down to retrieve the sponge, inwardly thankful for the ridiculously extravagant hood of the Mayor's car.

It means she doesn't have to worry about her acting skills.

Wiping at the filth that coats expensive black paint, she works her way forward until she is forced to lean over to reach the areas closer to the windshield, subsequently pressing herself flush against the car, chilled water soaking her t-shirt instantly, the thin cotton sticking to her frame in a way that is uncomfortably clammy, but beautifully revealing.

_Game on, Regina._

She wonders if it occurs to the Mayor that she could have just as easily moved round to the side of the bonnet to reach the area she now stretches herself out for.

It does.

The brunette clings firmly to her composure, observing the blonde expressionlessly as the latter struggles to access the areas high up on the bonnet. She wonders if she should suggest the younger woman simply move round to the side of the car rather than continue her idiotic endeavor, but is loathe to lose such a pleasing view.

_Why are you watching her? What are you thinking?!_

She growls at her inner voice to be quiet, knowing full well that she should do all in her power to discard the warm excitement mounting low in her stomach as she continues to watch Emma go about her business. She thinks back to the photograph of the younger woman that had sparked such intense reactions in the first place and finds herself fantasizing in vain over the skimpy little number the blonde had worn when performing this same task all those years ago.

She finds she doesn't much mind Emma's current attire either when the younger woman stretches back up to wring out her sponge.

Wet white cotton plasters itself sensationally against lean muscle, the thin material turned ever so slightly translucent when damp.

Regina catches her bottom lip with her teeth as she realizes the blonde doesn't wear a bra.

_Are you serious...?_

Dark eyes continue to ravage sodden cotton, flickering up to study the younger woman's face as she goes back to her cleaning; a small smattering of foamy bubbles gracing her pale cheek.

The fact that Emma has negated to wear a bra given the fact she had seemed entirely unsurprised she should be requested to perform a task in which she'd most likely get wet plays maddeningly on the brunette's mind. Her own breasts feel firm and tight with unwanted excitement, joined mutinously by a growing ache between her legs. She finds it hard to believe the younger woman could be completely oblivious to just how much she has on display, despite her firm belief that Emma resides in a perpetual state of ignorance.

_Such thoughts are dangerous... If you truly believe she bares herself like this consciously then what would _that_ mean... What would-_

She loses her train of thought as green eyes flicker suddenly up to find her own and the blonde offers her a small smile that is entirely free from innocence. Frowning as Emma moves her attention back down to the glistening bonnet, Regina runs her finger slowly over her lips before reaching for the door-handle and stepping from the car.

The blonde doesn't react to the fact the Mayor moves to stand behind her, simply carrying on with her methodical rubbing of the sponge. The brunette places her hands on her hips, her eyes roaming down to the younger woman's jean-clad ass which sticks out pertly as she leans over the car in a way that just seems a little too deliberate. Dark eyes flashing dangerously, Regina's tone is low when she speaks.

"What are you doing?"

"Washing your car, what does it look like I'm doing?"

Emma's answer is quiet, her tone easily mistakable for simple boredom but for the slight hitch to her breath. Throwing caution to the wind, the brunette moves to stand beside her, tracing a finger slowly through the icy bubbles that coat her car.

"That's not really what I meant, dear."

"What did you mean, then?"

"... You know what I mean, Miss Swan."

She almost inflects the end of her statement to form a question, but when the blonde rises slowly back up and faces her, she discards the last of her doubtful hesitation. Allowing her gaze to fall slowly to sodden cotton and pert breasts, Regina shakes her head slowly before returning her attention to glittering green eyes.

"Hardly the most appropriate outfit for the task at hand?"

"Oh, I think it's the perfect outfit for the task at hand..."

The Mayor raises an eyebrow, breath catching as the blonde's lips form a slow smile before the younger woman turns her attention dismissively back to the car.

"Is that so?"

"You tell me..."

The brunette moves with sudden violence, grabbing hold of the younger woman's wrist and dragging her swiftly over into the narrow alley beside the building's storage space where they find themselves covered from view. Slamming the blonde ruthlessly against the wall, she pins her in place with her own slender frame, her breath coming out in short, harsh pants as her eyes flicker about her companion's pale face feverishly.

"What are you playing at?"

"I think you know."

"You think I know why you're displaying yourself like this? Like a cheap little harlot in the-"

"-Don't pretend you don't like the view."

"_Like_ it?! Miss Swan, why on earth would you-"

"-You liked the idea well enough when you saw that picture... At least... you _sounded_ as though you did. Tell me, what-"

The blonde's low drawl is cut off as scarlet lips crash violently against her own; the Mayor having deliberated angrily between slapping her and silencing her as sordid fury floods through her veins. The brunette demands access aggressively, her fingers trailing wet fabric, before she pulls away and barks at the younger woman authoritatively.

"Take it off or you'll freeze. And I have no wish to get myself dirty."

"Oh?..."

The Mayor growls as the younger woman strips off her shirt easily, unsettled by the blonde's uncharacteristically coy behavior as it loses her the advantage she usually holds with her eloquence. She slams Emma back against the wall ruthlessly in reprimand, hands exploring pale, bare flesh dappled with goosebumps. Finding the younger woman's lips once more, she smirks as the blonde pushes her hips forward to press against her own.

Without breaking her aggressive kiss, Regina drags her nails roughly down the pale woman's stomach and wrestles with the button to her levi's, before snaking a hand swiftly inside tight denim to find tellingly wet lace.

The blonde makes a small noise of surprise- swallowed by hungry lips- as slender fingers slip deliciously into her wetness and play with her mercilessly. Squirming a little to allow better access, her breathing quickens as the Mayor's ministrations are savage and intense.

"Shit..."

Regina chuckles wickedly at the curious mix of pleasure and pain that chokes Emma's voice and finds her throat as the blonde throws her head back against the wall. She tastes the pale flesh on display eagerly, growling appreciativly as the younger woman begins to tremble beneath her. Speeding up the divine torture of her fingers ruthlessly, she catches the blonde's choked cry with scarlet lips as the pale woman comes blissfully undone.

Stepping back gracefully, she studies the blonde with glittering eyes as Emma leans against the wall trying to get her breath back. Letting her attention linger appreciatively on flushed breasts and taut muscle, she plucks up the discarded scrap of the blonde's t-shirt and shoves it into weak hands dismissively.

"I hope you've learnt your lesson, Miss Swan. Don't play games you have no chance of winning."


End file.
